Danger at the Fair (15 page)

THE
Great Sybil burst through the door of the fair office.

“There are two children in danger,” she panted.

A security guard, who had been pouring himself a cup of coffee to celebrate the fact that the fair was now closed for the night, put the cup down and snapped to attention. “Where?” he said.

“The River of Fear ride. They need help.”

“Who are they?” the guard asked.

“Ellen and Corey Streater. Ellen almost got killed once and now she needs help again.”

“Corey?” The guard reached for the two-way radio that hung from his belt. “Corey Streater?”

“That’s correct,” The Great Sybil said.

“That’s the kid who is missing.” The guard spoke into the radio. “All security personnel to The River of Fear ride,” he said. “Fast. And have the Sheriff set up a roadblock. Check all cars before they leave the fairgrounds.”

He ran out the office door; The Great Sybil ran after him. As the last of the fair patrons straggled out the gates, every guard on the grounds rushed toward The River of Fear.

MR. AND
Mrs. Streater stood next to the merry-go-round, watching as the attendants locked the ride.

“Ellen should have been here by now,” Mrs. Streater said. “It doesn’t take this long to look in the sheep barn.”

Two guards ran past. Mr. and Mrs. Streater looked at each other and, without saying a word, ran after the guards.

ELLEN
staggered backwards through the slimy water until she reached the walkway. She looked up toward where she thought the door through which she had entered The River of Fear was. It might as well be a mile away, she thought. The edge of the walkway was shoulder high and there was no way she could lift Corey’s inert body that far. She stood in the water, her aching arms holding her unconscious brother.

“Help!” she called. “In here! Help!”

To her astonishment, the door above her opened. Although she had hoped someone might hear her, she never dreamed
anyone would happen to be close enough the first time she called for help.

“Down here!” Ellen cried. “I’m down here in the water.”

A flashlight beamed downward; Ellen shut her eyes and turned her head away from the sudden light.

“It’s both of them,” said a woman. “The girl and the boy.”

“Stay where you are,” a man called. “We’re coming to get you.”

Tears of relief sprang to Ellen’s eyes. These people must have been looking for her and Corey, and just happened to be close to the maintenance door when Ellen called out.

Splash! Someone jumped over the edge of the landing, dropping into the water beside Ellen and Corey. The flashlight still shone down from above. Ellen smiled gratefully at her rescuer, a dark-haired man in a dark blue shirt. “Corey’s hurt,” she said. “You’d better get him out first and come back for me.”

The man did not reply.

Ellen’s smile faded when she saw the way he looked at her. His eyes seemed cold, like steel marbles. His jaws were clenched and a muscle twitched rhythmically in one cheek as he moved toward her. With horror, Ellen realized he had not come to rescue them.

“Who are you?” she whispered. “What do you want?”

He put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her backwards. Ellen twisted, trying to get away.

She couldn’t hold Corey up out of the water and fight off an attacker at the same time. If she let go of Corey and tried to escape, Corey would surely drown. If she didn’t drop Corey, they were both going to drown.

Ellen screamed.

Whoever was holding the flashlight quickly shut the door.

THE
Great Sybil and the guard ran toward The River of Fear as other guards and police officers converged from all directions.

“The ride is closed,” the guard said. “There’s no one there.”

“Go inside,” The Great Sybil said. “They’re in the tunnel.”

“Are you sure?” said a second guard.

“We’ve looked everywhere for that boy,” said a third guard. “We may as well check inside The River of Fear ride, too.”

“Hurry!” Sybil implored.

As the guard ran toward the wooden steps to the platform, Tucker stood at the top, waiting for Joan and Mitch to get deep in the ride and dreaming about what he would do with his unexpected windfall. Intent on his plan to get even, he did not notice the guards hurrying toward him. He smiled, pulled the lever, and started the ride.

Inside the ride, the dim lights came on and the sound effects boomed into the darkness. Ellen stared at her attacker’s face as she struggled to get away from him. The unexpected noise of the ride starting caused him to loosen his grip temporarily but, burdened as she was with Corey’s limp body, Ellen could not move quickly enough to take advantage of the man’s distraction.

Now he shoved Ellen again, trying to push her under the water. She staggered backwards, desperately trying to keep her balance.

Behind him, Ellen saw a boat enter the tunnel and come toward them.

The man yelled, “Joan! Tell Tucker to turn this thing off! What’s he trying to do, kill us all?”

“Maybe he’s trying to warn us that someone is coming.”

The flashlight went off.

With the man momentarily inattentive, Ellen thought: This is my chance. As soon as the boat was close enough, she heaved Corey upward with all her might and dropped him over the side, into the bottom of the boat. She hoped she was not making Corey’s injuries worse by dumping him into the boat that way but the alternative, drowning, was even worse.

The next boat approached; Ellen grabbed hold and swung one leg over the side. As her second foot came out of the water, the man’s arms went around her waist and pulled with such force that Ellen was yanked backwards away from the boat.

“The boy’s gone!” Mitch said. “He’s in one of the boats.”

Ellen kicked furiously and, twisting out of his grasp, dropped to her hands and knees on the slimy bottom.

“Joan! Get down here and help me,” Mitch said. “She’s slippery as a bar of soap.”

As he grabbed for her, Ellen ducked away from him and crawled under the walkway.

Joan tiptoed out the door. Instead of telling Tucker to turn the ride off, she hurried down the back steps, and ran toward the car. Mitch was going to drown that girl just to keep the cops away from Tucker. And if she stayed here, she’d be an accomplice.

Picking a few pockets had been fun, and stealing cars and parting them out was lucrative. But Joan drew the line at murder. Especially a kid. She had never seen Mitch act this way. He liked kids. He’d always been good to Alan. That’s one reason Joan had married him; she knew Alan needed a
man in his life. But Alan did not need a man who was wanted for murder.

When Joan didn’t answer him, Mitch dropped to his knees in the filthy water and began reaching under the platform.

“I know you’re under there,” he said.

CHAPTER
15

TUCKER KEPT
his hand on the lever for a few seconds after he pulled it, imagining the scene inside the ride. As he turned to leave, Joan dashed from behind The River of Fear and started across the midway. Tucker stared down at her, confused. Where was she going? Where was Mitch? Why didn’t she signal to Tucker?

The two of them were cutting him out! The thought hit him like a snowball striking the back of his neck, sending shivers of shock down his spine. It was the only logical explanation why Joan would run away like that. Mitch must be ahead of her. Joan and Mitch did the dirty work and then, instead of coming up the platform for Tucker, they beat it back to their fancy-dancy Mercedes and left Tucker to take the rap.

Well, he would not let them get away with it. The fact that
he
had planned to cut
them
out did not lessen Tucker’s outrage as he rushed down the steps, arriving at the bottom just as three patrol cars pulled up. Two officers got out of each car.

For a moment, Tucker stood frozen with fright. Then he said, “The ride has malfunctioned. It won’t stop until I go to the main electrical center and trip the fuse.” To his vast relief, the officers did not detain him.

Tucker broke into a trot, headed for the parking lot and the Mercedes. He had to get there before Mitch and Joan drove off.

They tricked me, Tucker thought bitterly, as he ran. They got me to stand guard and then they left me to face the cops alone.

An ambulance sped past, its red lights whirling.

Each time his feet hit the pavement, Tucker grew more furious. His own brother had cut him out.

At the far end of the parking lot, a line of cars waited to exit. There, almost at the end of the line, was the Mercedes, with Joan behind the wheel. Tucker pounded on the locked door until Joan rolled down her window.

“Let me in,” Tucker said.

“What do you want?”

“I’m going with you. I want my cut.” He reached through Joan’s open window, unlocked the back door, and climbed into the back seat. Then he saw that Alan sat in front with Joan and the back seat was empty.

“Where’s Mitch?” he asked.

“He’s meeting us later,” Joan said.

Tucker stared at the back of Joan’s head. “You left him, didn’t you?” he said, unable to keep the amazement out of his voice. “You left your own husband to take the rap.”

“Shut up, Tucker. There won’t be any cuts for any of us if we don’t get out of here soon. This traffic is terrible.”